NUMB3RS: Math and Behavior of Love
by LRmember
Summary: Phoebe Weiland is a theoretical psychiatrist, studying psychological patterns in the human brain. Suddenly her best friend, Roxi Kyle, is attacked and put in a coma, with Phoebe to blame. But why are the FBI involved? And why was she the one framed? Why was Roxi attacked? And who is the mysterious man who seems to be connected to all of it.
1. Chapter 1

I didn't really know about him.

We never ran in the same circles.

I didn't care about things like that.

But that was before it happened.

It was Wednesday. A rainy Wednesday. I always worked under my oak tree on my worn marble bench on Wednesdays. Always people watching and studying my own research as well as those of other professors and researchers.

Always.

I never minded the cold or the rain or even hail, so I sat with my strange wide umbrella, the numbers of pi creating the shield from the relentless downpour as I watched people scatter from the numerous droplets. My piles of notebooks and journals sitting safely under a tarp while my pencil flew across the paper, taking notes of the scurrying people.

I had been studying theoretical psychiatrics for three years when I had finally gotten a break through on my thesis paper on emotional expressions and the creation of false emotions.

I was taking notes on why we were psychologically programmed to get out of the rain when we were adults, but as children we danced and relished the beautiful droplets of water as they splashed against our skin. I was starting on a new notebook; long after people had realized the rain was not letting up anytime soon, when I saw him.

I looked up from my notebook by pure chance; my hair probably soaked (I never tried to cover myself, only my books) and caught his dark eyes with my light.

He had black hair, it was long and against his face like a tangle of vines. A strong jaw line and sharp features. His dark eyes were staring straight at me, catching my bright green ones in their deep dark depths. I knew my hair was also tangled around my face, golden wavy hair straightened by the rain, thick lashes holding crystals of water. I slipped my book away and picked up my tarp, unsure of what to do in this situation.

_Run_. I thought suddenly. _He's staring at you. _

I felt my stomach clench up with butterflies and cold as I turned and did exactly what I wanted to do . . . Run away.

I don't know why I ran. I just did. Something told me I had to. My books hitting my stomach painfully as I ran, I copied the people who ran, but for an entirely different reason than the rain.

I sprinted for cover.

I raced until I finally I reached my dorm. The fifth and top floor with a total of ten rooms on the level. My room was the only room in the whole building to house only one student: Me.

I climbed up the stairs, panting from my run through the rain, and nearly ran into 'Roxie' or Roxanne Kyle, my only friend on my floor.

"Oh! Phoebe! I was just looking for you. Still refusing to listen to Mother nature are you?" she teased. She had long red hair with black strips being braided throughout it. Her pale blue eyes were stunning and she wore a sheik black tank top and non-ripped up jeans, varying from her norm. Her lips were red with the dark lipstick she loved to use and her hair was expertly done.

"Going out to see another boyfriend, Rox?" I asked. I was the only one allowed to call her 'Rox'. It was mainly because I could always tell who she was going out with and could cover for her whenever she needed me to. She burned through so many boyfriends sometimes they mashed together and I had to make sure they never met. My research and my skills combine to make me the perfect spontaneous alibi.

"Yeah, teacher this time. Took me forever to get him to go out with me." She said smearing a thinner-than-usual layer of mascara on her eyes.

"I could tell all that without you telling me." I mumbled. It was my curse, my ability to observe, analyze and remember everything I see. The non-ripped jeans meant someone who didn't approve of delinquency, the darker lipstick was meant for someone older (because it made her seem more mature) and Rox had been complaining recently about a teacher not letting up in her attempts of seducing him.

"Oh, right. Then you don't need me to tell you that Jake might come asking for me and-"

"At the movies with Stella or studying with Marcey?" I looked over her expression for a moment then nodded. "Movies with Stella. I got it." She winked.

"Thanks Pheeb. I owe you one."

"A lot more than one if you plan to return all those favors. Just what's the name of this lucky teacher? Someone I know?" I asked and Rox threw her head back and laughed.

"He's no one you'd know. He's my favorite teacher." She said and I rolled my eyes.

"You mean the mathematician? He's the one you complain about the most." Asked and she gave me a sly smile.

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Don't try that on me. It's the math guy." I sighed then shook my head. "You really shouldn't go out with one of your teachers." I muttered and she laughed again.

"Don't worry. It won't work out. That rain'll ruin everything." She nodded towards the window and I laughed.

"Yeah, have fun. Tell him that joke you know." I said, sounding serious and starting up the stairs again.

"You should look at getting a boyfriend too. With your gorgeous lashes and those killer curves you could get anyone." She slapped my butt to prove her point and I kicked at her scuffing some mud on her pants. "Eck! Pheebs! I have a date in ten minuets!" she groaned.

"Don't worry. The rain'll ruin everything." I nodded to the pants and she gave me a pity look.

"I mean it Pheebs. Find yourself someone. You'll end up all alone looking at faces and body language and whatever the hell else you look at up in your room. I'm almost scared to look at what you have up in there." She jerked her head upwards and I rolled my eyes, thinking of the strange dark man in the rain. Who –other than me- would be out in the rain without an umbrella?

"Why would I need someone? By the way, you have a date. Go have fun. I'll keep Jake off your tail, but I'm not ending it for you." I warned and she gave me a last wink.

"Thanks Pheebs. I'm off." I smiled quietly as she pulled out a portable umbrella and walked into the rain, waving at her back.

It took years for Rox to get close enough to me to make me laugh. I still am amazed at how she did it. I turned and walked the rest of the stairs, and I saw Rox running through the rain to an umbrella covered stranger, though I couldn't see his face. He also had a portable umbrella and I could only see his feet. His shoes and pant legs were soaked and muddy, like he'd been out in the rain for a while.

"Have fun." I mumbled smirking, "Don't do anything stupid." I opened the door to my room, never locking it for knowing what's inside, and walked in.

Inside was a wall covered in faces and pictures.

They looked like creepy stalker pictures of everyone around campus- and they were, in a way.

I had taken pictures of every emotion and example of lying and expression I could, hoping it would prove my thesis, which they did. All of my pictures were sneakily taken, close ups, far shots, circles, pictures of the muscles in the faces, everything in my room profiled me as a serial killer waiting to happen.

I ignored all of my pictures –knowing what they looked like already and promising myself I'd look at them (again) later- and instead went to my book. I called it my stalker book -actually everyone called it the stalker book- because it held pictures of almost everyone on campus. I had habits and the schedules of all the students I could get. I had, more than once, broken up a long lasting relationship because of my pictures.

However I wasn't interested in all of those pictures, or at least I wasn't interested in the people I usually was interested in. I started digging through my 'stalker book', which held all the pictures I'd ever taken, and searched. Each picture had little notes stuck to the sides of all the pictures noting every expression I could catch, every story of what was happening. I ignored them and went to my crowd pictures, the ones of scenes, the ones where I perched in trees or on towers and took scenic photos. I rummaged, for any sign, any proof, and any figure who resembled the one I'd seen in the rain.

I began to search.

After hours of searching through my books, going over again and again the pictures I gave up and threw the book furiously onto my bed.

"Stupid." I growled at myself. "So stupid, Phoebe. What did you expect?" there was a furious knock on the door and I slowly turned towards it. "Come on in Jake." I called and he opened the door, sneering down at me. I could tell he was freaked out at me knowing it was him, after all he didn't know me, nor my reputation well enough understand.

"Where's Roxi?" he said directly, not bothering to hid his fear and disgust of my room nor his anger at Roxi. Jake had bleached hair and pale blue eyes. He was the kind of rebel Roxi usually went after and I tried to ignore the smell of pot on him.

"Why?" I muttered pulling up my research on my laptop.

"Because she's been avoiding me all day and I want to make sure we're still together. I know how she sluts around."

"Don't talk about her like that. And she's at the movies with Stella, if you must know." Stella was visiting her brother tonight, probably getting back well past midnight and transferring Roxi's alibi to a greater probability.

"Bull." He sighed and leafed through my pictures. "Roxi always has you cover for her. Where is she?"

"I told you, jackass. Don't touch my papers. Also I don't always cover for her." I glared and he glanced at me with a sneer before letting the papers fall to the ground.

"Oops." He said sarcastically and I was at his throat in seconds. My hand held a knife and I was nearly snarling. Even though Jake was a full foot taller than me I clearly had dominance.

"I said 'don't touch my papers', jackass." I glared and he whimpered a little. "That's right, I'm crazy. Now get out. I told you where she was and if you don't like it don't mess with me. Call her up or whatever." He stumbled towards the door.

"You bitch. I'll report this." I glanced at the clock. 11:25.

"Yeah, because you were in my room at 11:25 and I pulled a knife on you after you rifled through my things. How many people are gonna buy that?" I glared and he spit at me.

"Skank." He snorted and I threw the knife, missing his face by an inch. The blade imbedded itself into the wall about two inches.

I had classes in self-defense after my parents realized how much my gift could hurt me.

"Get out before I rip out your throat." I glared darkly, I half expected him to pee himself but he just left murmuring threats. Sighing I fell back onto the bed.

"Great. Another day gone wrong."

I didn't get to bed until four in the morning. I had been searching through my entire photo history to find the mysterious man in the rain, but had no luck. Eventually I gave up and collapsed in my bed. I kept my bed in the closet, because the light makes my eyes hurt, especially in the morning. I didn't dream about anything except water.

When I awoke it wasn't because I had simply woken up. I awoke because there was a loud pounding on my door.

"Miss Weiland? We're the FBI would you mind opening up?" came the deep booming voice. I growled and crawled out of the closet, closing my door to my bed and throwing open my front door.

"What?" I sighed, my hair probably looking like a rats nest. The man who stood in front of me was the tall dark and handsome kind. He had short hair and deep brown eyes, almost like the man in the rain, but this one was taller and more muscular with short-cropped hair, like a military man.

The second was a woman with long brownish blonde hair. She had a grimace on her face and was looking me over with what looked like disgust. I gestured for them to come in and glanced at the clock.

7:41.

Damn.

"You're Miss Phoebe Weiland?" the man asked as he entered carefully. He glanced at the knife in the wall and gave his partner an eyebrow-raising look, which turned into a look of horror at my walls.

"Why no, I just live here posing as Phoebe Weiland. I'm actually Gertrude Matilda the bear taming circus performer." I muttered sarcastically as I poured myself a bowl of 'Lucky Charms'.

"Very funny." The woman said and she looked around the room with horror. "You live here?" she nearly whispered and I nodded.

"Yeah. That's my psycho wall- or that's what people call it. I'm studying psychology here." They glanced at each other and the woman raised her eyebrows.

"What's the knife for?" the man asked sticking his thumb towards the wall knife.

"Someone came into my room last night. I let him in but he suddenly started messing up my stuff and shouting at me so I defended myself. I gave him fair warning and when he didn't leave . . ." I trailed off as I scooped the cereal into my mouth. "What's this about?" I asked through mouthfuls.

"Last night Roxanne Kyle was attacked." The woman said and I choked nearly spewing my breakfast back into my bowl.

"Is she okay? What happened? Have you caught anyone?" I was on my feet and across the table in a second.

"Calm down Miss Weiland. Miss Kyle was wounded, and she was put into a light coma. We came to ask you some questions on what she was doing last night-" I held up my hand to interrupt the detective. I took a deep breath and sighed.

"She was on a date with a teacher. All I can tell you is that he had a portable umbrella but didn't use it until a little time before meeting with Rox. He wore regular shoes and he works in the math department. She doesn't take his class anymore, I don't have any pictures from that department and he uses a chalkboard over a power point." I took a breath as the two stared at me.

"Oh, is that all?" the man said sarcastically.

"No. Jake Finn is Rox's soon-to-be ex-boyfriend was the one who came into my room. I was covering for Roxi because she didn't like him anymore. She knows I don't break up her boyfriends, I just cover in case she didn't have time and they come asking. He was pretty upset that she hadn't called him and was being pretty rough."

"Sounds like you know her schedule pretty well." Said the woman in an angry tone.

"Okay . . . Can you tell me who you are? I feel at a disadvantage." I asked ignoring the woman as coldly as I could.

"Ah, yes. I'm Don Eppes and this is Megan Reeves, with the FBI." He showed me his badge and I glanced at it. Real. Miss Reeves pulled out her badge and I caught a glimpse of her wallet and phone.

"Yeah, okay. Can we talk and walk? I want to see Rox."

"You want to see some Rocks?" the woman scoffed like it was a joke and I glared at her.

"Do you to stop insulting me or not?" I asked and she sneered. Geeze what was this woman's problem.

"Just try it." She snapped and I sighed.

"You speak fluent French, you have three sisters, probably older. You're currently sleeping with two men but are ending it with both of them today because you value your job over relationships. You don't keep in touch with your father. You teach at the YMCA. You teach a defense class. You made all your life choices before you were of legal age and you are in love with a co-worker, probably-"

"ENOUGH." She said before I could say 'the tall dark and dangerous Don'.

"Wow that was impressive. How'd you do that?" Don asked and I shrugged.

"She curls her r's occasionally and I saw her phone. Three missed calls from her father and a text message with a name Sarah under the family tab. Usually, if it was a younger sister, there would be a nickname like 'little lizzy' or something like that meaning she's older, but you also had two more tabs under there, neither was your father because he didn't have a tab on his messages and your mother is probably dead or gone for the other things to be true. You're wearing two different colognes, both for men, but no sane person see's two men on the same day so early unless they're ending it with both of them. You ignored all of the calls from you father, implying you really didn't want to talk to him and you're awfully young to be an FBI agent meaning you had to start young. And finally, your wallet has a YMCA card, which is frequently used, and I can assume from your fiery protective personality you don't participate in class the same as a student, but you seem protective of civilians." They both gaped at me for a little while longer as I finished my cereal and gulped down the milk.

"You got all that just by looking at her?"

"I wish." I muttered.

"What?" he asked and I grimaced.

"That's it." I said more loudly and the girl snorted.

"Where were you last night at around mindnight?" she asked and I suddenly realized why they were here.

"Oh my god! I'm a suspect!" I declared and Eppes stuck out his hand.  
"We're just exploring every possibility." He said calmly and I nodded.

"So I'm a possibility. I'll tell you now, I didn't do anything but I don't have an alibi. I was here, looking for a picture." I nodded towards my stalker book and they glanced uneasily at each other.

"Can anyone-"

"No. I was alone after 11: 25." I sighed. I started getting my shoes on and grabbed my jacket when the lady stepped in front of me.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked and I glared.

"To see my best friends. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go." I stepped around her and opened the door, waiting for them. "You're no longer allowed in my domain but you can walk with me and continue to question me." They looked again at each other and I rolled my eyes.

"Are you two psychic? You keep trying to talk with your eyes." Another glance at each other. "See she just said 'I don't trust her' and you just said 'put that aside, we need her'. What's going on? What about this makes me such a suspect? Why would you need me?" they glanced at each other, realized what they were doing and looked away.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell us?" the woman said looking towards me. They lead me out the door.

What a horrible day.


	2. Chapter 2

"So Phoebe," Reeves said as she slid into the chair. They had pulled me out of my class and brought me down to their office. I still hadn't seen been able to see Rox or talk to anyone. "What exactly do you make of this?" Reeves slid a folder over to me and I opened it to find a picture from a surveillance camera. It was a picture of a longhaired girl wearing my hoodie and the same jeans I had on this morning. In the girls gloved hand she had a lead pipe and her face was covered by huge sunglasses.

It wasn't me, but it certainly looked a lot like me.

I turned through the pictures and the person slammed the pipe an unsuspecting Roxi. The girl then caught Roxi before letting her slide to the ground.

"Well this proves it's not me." I said coolly. Reeves glared.

"Oh, does it?" I grimaced as she sneered.

"Yes it does. You can see the back of Roxi's head started bleeding from that and it got on that person's jeans."

"What?" I handed her the picture, showing the frame where Roxi's head lolled back whipping against the jeans. Reeves' eyes widened and she glanced at the window. Tall dark and handsome ran out.

"And you just happened to notice."

"I only have one pair of jeans like that, because they're so expensive. I have a lot of cheep jeans, but only one like that. And see, mine have a rip right there." I pointed to back part of the thigh and she nodded.

"Yes, but you could easily add that whenever you wanted." I laughed.

"Actually, I can prove I've had it for longer. My floor mates have made a game of taking MY pictures because I've taken all of theirs. One of them got some good shots when I was unable to dodge."

"Dodge?"

"I'm very good at reading a situations, and a competitive game based on pictures other people can get of me makes my own competitive instinct kick in. I usually get to dodge the pictures, but if I'm talking to a professor I can't just cover my face or hide in trees." I snapped, "So I usually turn so the camera is to my back. There will be plenty of pictures to prove those jeans aren't mine." I said and leaned back in the chair, "Can I go see Roxi now?"

"You wont be seeing anyone until we can prove you didn't just make up your whole story. You say you were alone after 11:25?" she asked and I sighed.

"Yeah. Jake Finn can clarify that, and if not him my neighbors could probably tell you there was shouting in my room."

"Why wouldn't Jake want to prove you innocent?" she mocked.

"Probably because I threw a knife at his head and chewed him out."

"How convenient." She mumbled and I rolled my eyes.

"Are you still annoyed because I revealed your life to Don over there? I wouldn't have had to if you weren't such a jerk to me." I glared and she sighed.

"You're one to talk. Attacking your best friend and putting her in a light coma? Harsh." I went on the defensive instead of the offensive and crossed my arms.

"Why don't you question her date? He seems the more likely suspect." I glared and she laughed.

"With this surveillance?"

"Well, you never know. Why am I the only suspect?" I frowned and she glared.

"Trust me, the date was not the attacker. Right now it's not looking so good for you, though, Phoebe." She glowered and turned walking out of the room. I sighed and waited for the door to close before getting up and sliding out of the glass box. If they weren't going to let me go see Roxi, I would have to go see her myself.

I slid out of the door after waiting to make sure no one was paying attention to me and grabbed a container of coffees, dodging though a group of people as they watched me leave.

"Hey, what are you doing?" a deep burley voice asked and I laughed a little.

"Got off on the wrong floor. Have to take these to level three!" I called back and slid into the elevator. The voice didn't protest and I dropped the mugs off in the elevator, quickly ducking out and nearly running into a person.

"Woah, hey!" the guy called and I winced.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention and-" I looked up to find an attractive young man giving me a strange smile. He had thick curly hair and deep brown eyes. His nose was round and he looked Jewish and he also had comfy closed on instead of intimidating. His card said visitor and chalk on his fingers along with caluses. I beamed.

"You okay?" he asked and I nodded. He gave me a genuine smile and checked his watch. "Crap I'm late. Sorry!" he laughed and turned into the elevator. As the doors were closing he stared into my face and frowned.

"Wait aren't you . . ." the doors closed and I took the opportunity to run from the building glancing at the street and stretching my arms.

"Ah, what a good day to be free!" I smiled and walked down to the hospital. _I've never seen anyone give that genuine of a smile before._ I thought as I trotted down the sidewalk. _And all I did was say I was fine after bumping into him_. I smirked, feeling overjoyed at finding a truly kindhearted person and found the hospital basically pulling up to meet me. I grinned and walked in checking with the doctors which room Roxi was in and if she could see visitors.

Three floors later I was sitting next to her at her bed, holding her hand and grimacing. She looked fairly normal, except for the pale tone of her skin and the dark circle under her left eye, which was developing into a bruise. I rubbed her hand with my thumb and sighed when the nurse came in.

"Excuse me!" I asked and she looked up, smiling with a fake smile.

"Yes?" she asked tiredly.

"Sorry, but do you know the extent of her damage?"

"Yes, she'll hopefully be out of this coma by Wednesday next week, but it's still pretty early to tell. She's showing good signs of recovery though and shouldn't suffer any problems mentally or physically once she wakes up." The nurse assured and went to check the vital signs.

Suddenly the two FBI agents who brought me in to questioning burst through the door and stared at me, panting.

"What the hell?" Don asked and I smiled standing.

"Okay, now that I've seen Roxi I'll return to the headquarters with you." I smiled and held out my wrists, but neither of them made any move to cuff me.

"Why the hell did you leave?" Reeves asked and I rolled my eyes.

"I told you I wanted to see Roxi. If you weren't going to let me see her on your time then I had to make my own time." I snorted and Don had to repress his smile.

"Okay, well come on back to headquarters with us so we can finish questioning you."

"You mean you aren't done?" I groaned, "I've answered so many of your silly questions when you should be out there looking for the assailant!"

"Just a few more, I promise." He said and I groaned following them out of the hospital. What did I care about his promise? I just wanted to see my friend. Besides, I didn't trust the words of people.

They all lie.

"How should I know?" I snapped standing up from my chair. "How many questions do you think 'a few' is? I've counted twenty seven, and that's not including the 'do you want coffee?' questions!" I shouted and Don stood holding out a hand as if it would calm me down.

"Phoebe, please, we're just trying to get through this."

"I told you, all of Roxi's dating information was verbal. I doubt she kept a journal, especially since she never tried to cheat on anyone. She only had me make alibi's for those of her boyfriends who didn't want to move on!" I glared and Reeves sighed.

"Well, then you'll just have to make us a written account of all the boyfriends she's had that haven't wanted to move on."

"Why? The attacker was a girl!"

"Then those of them who broke up with their girlfriends!" snapped Reeves and I groaned.

"I'm not her keeper! I just help her out once in a while. The list will be incomplete."

"Then give us a list of who WOULD know!"

"GUYS!" Don boomed and I drew back, trying to appear tough. Reeves jumped and gaped at him. "Stop arguing now. Miss Weiland we'll have you out of here as soon as we can. Megan that is no way to talk to an interviewee if they're cooperating fully. I don't understand what you're deal is but this is not okay." I slumped back into my seat and crossed my arms.

"I'll make your list, just let me see Roxi again." I snorted and Don shook his head.

"Make the list, then you can see Roxi again." He frowned and slid a notepad to me. I looked up at him and smirked.

"Let me see the consultant." I said and he raised his eyebrows.

"What consultant?" he asked and I turned to look out the glass box.

"The one who I bumped into on my way out." I said and pretended to wave my fingers at someone. One of the guards, confused, waved back and Don glanced at Megan.

"Alright. You start working on that and we'll bring him in." Don said and Megan and him got up and left. The door swished closed and I scribbled something down on the notepad, constraining my giggle as I dodged out the door for a second time.

"Nice try." I muttered, "But we play things my way." I managed to dodge into the elevator and went down to the first floor.

"Well, we appear to be running into each other." Came a familiar soft voice. I turned to see the brown haired consultant in the elevator with me. He gave me the genuine smile again and I laughed.

"Yes, it does seem like that. Not late again, I hope." I smirked and he shook his head.

"No. That's over and done with. I'm heading back. I just got another case to work on. Apparently a girl got hit on the head and they want me to check if it's possible to track where some of the evidence could have been washed to."

"Oh? That's funny. I'm working on that case too. I'm not doing algorithms, though!" I chuckled and he smiled. The elevator doors opened and the elevator binged impatiently.

"Yeah. Kind of weird, I know. What are you working on?"

"Ah, well you see-" I smiled as the elevator doors started to close and I slipped out, pressing all the buttons I could and the man looked at me, confused. "I'm the prime suspect." I grinned and he raised his eyes in surprise, opening his mouth to say something but the door closed. I grinned and walked out through the front door.

_Sorry Roxi,_ I thought, _I can't come visit you this time._

This time, I had to find who was framing me.


	3. Chapter 3

**In the office**

"I knew we should have hand cuffed her!" Reeves shouted and Don glared.

"It's not my fault. We never officially arrested her because she never needed to be officially arrested. That's why she never resisted!" He groaned and hit his head with the palm of his hand. "I should have know something was wrong!"

"Well, she did leave us a note." Reeves said, holding up the note pad.

"An encrypted note. It must go through at least four different languages, and all of them are fake!" he groaned and Charlie knocked on the door.

"Don?" he called, softly, like a mouse. Don swung, trying not to let his bad mood project on his brother.

"Hey, you figure out that algorithm for finding the missing glove, yet?" he asked and Charlie frowned, looking down.

"No, but I do have some other evidence." He mumbled. "I think your prime suspect just walked out of the building." They both grimaced at his words.  
"We know, we just found out." Colby said sullenly.

"She did leave us this." Don said and handed the paper to Charlie. He took it and raised an eyebrow.

"It's a really simple encryption called the civil alphabet cipher. Every letter has a number, such as one is A, two is B, three is- Oh." He mumbled and grimaced. "Those aren't real words."

"They are, but they're in another code." Reeves said. "Maybe you could do something with it." Charlie raised his eyebrows then winced.

"I'll see. Maybe Larry can help. Or Amita. They'll know more about this than I will." He sighed and started to take the paper.

"Wait." Don sighed and tore off the sheet, copying the same sequence. "We get the original for evidence." He said and handed his brother the copy. Charlie looked a little annoyed by this but didn't complain as he strode off looking at the numbers and chewing his thumb nervously.

"How are you holding up?" Don called as an afterthought. Charlie looked up and turned.

"Hmm?"

"I know you went on a date with Roxi in the first place. Phoebe was able to analyze you from the moment she saw you." Charlie raised his eyebrows and grimaced.

"It went pretty badly. She was really confident and I was . . . my usual self." He sighed and Don grimaced. "Not to mention I'm the reason she got attacked anyways." He added and Don shook his head.

"It wasn't meant to be. Nothing that happened was your fault. It was all the attackers fault, be it Phoebe or someone else." Charlie seemed a little less disheartened but didn't straighten up as he exited. Don returned his attention to the others and sighed.

"Alright I want code crackers running this until it's done. Meanwhile David and Colby will go and check out this ex boyfriend. I'll go check out Roxi's roommate to see if there's anything she used to keep track of all those boyfriends while Megan looks up Roxi's phone records. Send a guard over to Phoebe's place and pick her up for holding if she goes back."

"Um, Don." David whispered and he looked up.

"What?"

"Isn't it protocol to use the victim's full name?" he asked and Don frowned.

"Wha'd I say?"

"Roxi. It's Roxanne Kyle, Don." Megan whispered and he shook his head.

"Sorry. Phoebe must have been saying it so much I just . . ." he trailed off then glared.

"Well? Get going!" he snapped and they all scattered while he rubbed his head.

He hit himself with the palm of his hand again for good measure.

**Back on Campus**

I knew the person who framed me would be surprised to see me again, and I knew I would be able to catch them on camera, but I wasn't exactly welcome on campus anymore. This meant I had to be careful who I tried to snap a photo of.

There was Kelsey, Roxi's flat mate, but she undoubtedly was going to have cops and reporters all around her. She loved attention and she would think of any bull crap to make them keep an eye on her. Then there was Rory, Jake Finn's ex girlfriend. A girl he cheated on . . . with Roxi. Then Jake himself, except he wasn't the smartest guy to dress up like me, nor the right size for the costume. The mysterious teacher in the rain, but also, he wasn't the type, the way he stood suggested little self-confidence.

After that I just had to look for girls who looked like me.

How many wavy haired blondes could there be on a college campus, right?

Too many.

I groaned as I hid up in a tree, another cop car going by as I snapped pictures of all the girls who had hair and body proportions that matched the picture, and mine. I also started snapping photos of those whose hair looked like it had been cut and/or dyed recently.

I would have gone back to my stalker book if it wasn't for the guards. Luckily I managed to get a camera before the oh-so-kind agents hauled me out of my room. I looked through my pictures, trying to find any of a girl I recognized as the culprit.

"Three." I muttered and sighed. _Three potential suspects, three potentially angry women_. I glared and flicked back two. The first seemed strangely familiar. A girl with chopped off recently dyed black hair.

She was a perfect match. Her hair was obviously dyed black, and chopped off ruggedly, and poorly.

Sharron Rose.

"Gotcha."

**In a classroom on Campus**

"Charlie," Larry sighed, "this is impossible. This girl is too good!" he groaned looking through the code again. "I mean what does this even mean? It looks like the alphabet code but it just translates into garbage."

"She's not that good." Charlie muttered annoyed, "She had to have looped it through some language. What does this mean? This stupid

'**20-3 8-23 15 4 11 15 8 -4 3 8-18 8 5 20 15 12 15 4 21 11 8-16**'

translate to, anyways?"

"Well, assuming the dashes stand for some sort of character . . . it looks like klingon." Larry said as he frowned. "See? '**t'ch'woDkoH 'D ch'rHe to loDukH'p'**." he said and frowned, "But those words don't mean anything in klingon, in fact they don't even look like real words, just a scramble of letters and sounds."

"What did you say?"

"Klingon?"

"No-no-no after that. A scramble of letters and sounds, you think it might be an anagram?"

"In Klingon? That seems pretty tricky and hard to do right away, I mean, she did write this immediately after they left, almost as a second thought." Larry said leaning against a desk and rubbing his head.

"So she can immediately encode her writing." Charlie said frowning and turning to his chalkboard where the numbers and now the 'klingon' were written.

"That means it must not be in too difficult of a code, meaning she must have used another barrier." Larry said waving a hand vaguely.

"Well, Klingon has a specific way one pronounces certain letters, right?"

"Yeah?"

"So, what if these words are spelled how the words underneath them would sound in klingon?" Charlie said searching through his computer.

"But they still don't make sense." Larry frowned and Charlie squinted at the new line of words. **tacawodkoh ad carhe to lodukhap. **

"Maybe it's another language." Charlie suggested and Larry groaned.

"This girl's pretty amazing," He mumbled, "if she can encrypt a line of text to this extent on the spot."

"Well, if she's fluent in the language it's pretty easy to translate it." He said and typed in the phrase. Nothing came up.

"It almost looks like English." Larry pointed out. "Maybe this one is an anagram, there are a few more letters and a few less symbols. It might make more sense."

"Maybe. I'll run it through." Charlie said and returned to the computer.

"Um, Charles, maybe I should do that." Larry offered raising his eyebrows. "Don't you have a class in a few minutes?" Charlie looked up, a little bewildered.

"Is it Tuesday?" he asked and Larry gave a soft laugh.

"Yes it is, Mr. Eppes. Perhaps you should go teach your class." Larry laughed and took over the computer.

"Okay." He sighed and picked up his books before casting a nervous glance at Larry. "Are you sure because I could always cancel and-"

"Now what kind of brilliant mathematician would you be if you were to skip?" Larry laughed and Charlie gave a half smile.

"Right. Call me if you get anything." He said and turned walking out the door.

**In the classroom**

I sat directly behind her, six rows back. I was positive she was the girl who set me up, but she didn't know I was here yet. I eyed her, glaring when I saw her pull out a mirror and glance at her hair uneasily. She seemed uncomfortable with the short length of her hair, but she also seemed to be very . . . flirtatious. Her face was soft and smooth, but she had bags under her eyes as though she had stayed up all night. Makeup was haphazardly thrown on her face, but it was also careful, like she wanted someone's approval.

This was the girl who framed me.

But why was she primping so much? There were only a few guys in this class and none of them caught her fancy, or anyone's fancy for that matter. They were the kind of guys girls didn't make friends with because of their personality over their looks. The way they all sat so laid back made me nervous enough to want to scream, but at least I knew they were all here.

But why was this girl so damn anxious? There was nobody here to impress anyways . . . that is . . . unless the teacher-

"Alright class, sorry I'm late I got caught up in a code." Called the attractive young teacher . . . the same one from the FBI. I swore, loudly, and ducked under my desk. The teacher looked up and laughed. The girl looked around frowned, like it was shameful to interrupt his class.

"Well, I know I'm late but there's no reason for any of that." He retorted and there was a chorus of chuckles. She looked less pleased and appeared to be thinking of a way to make the same effect.

"Alright so who can tell me what the civil alphabet cipher is?" he asked and wrote the numbers on the board. The class glanced at each other blankly and I grimaced.

_Damn my pride . . ._ I thought and peaked over the desk, _It's going to get us all caught._

"Where the alphabet is turned into its corresponding number." I called and I saw several people turn to look at me, but I kept below the desk out of sight. The professor looked up to try and catch a glimpse of who had said it, but I was too well hidden.

"Very good. Now I'm going to write a series of numbers on the board and I want you all to tell me what it says." The professor finished copying a sequence on the board and I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing.

My code sat on the board, like it had been too difficult to figure out and I bit down hard on my fist.

"It doesn't say anything . . . well not anything reasonable!" the girl, Sharron, said after a moment and the professor smiled a little.

"Not in English. This is the same code I was working on before I came here. Now, does anyone recognize it." A girl from the front row raised her hand and I grimaced. She knew it was my code, but I don't think she knew how to crack it. The only one I had ever told how to crack it was Roxi.

_God I miss her._ I thought, miserably.

"That's Phoebe's code." The girl from the front said and the professor smiled.

"Absolutely right. Now, does anyone know where Phoebe is?" I again, restrained my laughter from the back row while a chorus of 'no's echoed across the hall. I could tell he was a little disappointed and I debated standing up, but I was laughing to hard I doubt I could get any words out. "Alright, do any of you know how to decipher this code?" another chorus of 'no's and a small snicker escaped my lips. The classroom looked around as the noise echoed and that made me have to bite my fist again. This was too funny.

_They really had no idea how to crack my code_.

"Alright, that's okay. Now the next step of the code." He wrote down the 'klingon' part and I smirked.

This part was always tricky. Certain letters in Klingon were spelled in certain ways. For instance an 'a' could be spelled with an apostrophe instead of a character. Some letters were even pronounced as others. That bit was the hardest part to learn when I first created the code. Sometimes I even had to leave the klingon spelling out in order to finish coding.

"Now who can tell me what the next step is?" Charlie smiled but no one had any idea. He took the time to explain the spelling and I stuffed my sleeve in my mouth to keep from laughing, seeing as my fist was bleeding now. "No one?" he asked again and Sharron raised her hand desperately.

"Why don't you just ask who made the code?" she retorted and I froze. Did they know I was in here or was she just asking a stupid question?

"Well," the teacher said smiling, "The person who wrote this, Phoebe Weiland, isn't available right now." I relaxed, restraining a sigh as I leaned back against the desk. The professor then began to explain the next step and I glared at my shoes. The likely hood was that kids would tell everyone how to decipher my code now and soon everyone would know it.

Luckily, once he finished the step he was stopped dead in his tracks.

"Is it true she got arrested?" someone asked and the whole class went silent. The scratch of the chalk ceased and I risked a peak to see Sharron's reaction. She was stiff, frozen, like someone had petrified her. The shock of the conversation made her tremble a little.

"I wouldn't know." The professor said with a nervous chuckle and everyone glanced at one another. Once the new line of text was written out, the professor stopped and I smirked. He hadn't figured out this part yet, he didn't understand what next to do.

"Here's where I stopped working. Does anyone recognize something here?" I couldn't hold back anymore and I chuckled. The sound resonated through the room and everyone looked around. The way the noise bounced off the walls it sounded like an evil mastermind. I didn't bother to hide but instead stood up, stepping on the desk. There were several gasps and Sharron turned.

It was in slow motion, the look of terror already on her face. She looked up and let out a blood-curdling scream. I smiled at her and leapt from my desk forward until I was able to step onto hers. I was light enough to be confident I wouldn't break the desk and I knelt on it to look her in the eye.

"You-you-you-" she stammered and I slammed my hand on the desk.

"Yesterday I recall seeing you with your hair about a foot longer and blonde. What happened? Frame me for a crime and feel like going through a change of pace?" I demanded and she fell back out of her chair.

"Help!" she squealed and I snorted.

"I won't do anything to you. I'm a fugitive already. However, you might want to confess to FRAMING me." I shouted before I turned back to the front saw that the professor was staring at me. His genuine smile was gone now and replaced with a look of fear. "Sorry to interrupt professor. But I find you're code very intriguing." I smirked but there was a bang from behind me.

"She's here!" Don called and the professor turned his attention to the FBI agent for a moment. "Charlie, look out!" Don shouted and I leapt three desks over to the side, where another door lay, closed and I turned. Charlie? Was that the teachers name?

"Try 'Dino language'!" I laughed and burst out the door, finding a window in front of me. The hallway went both ways but the window was closest.

What floor was I on? Third? Second?

I didn't look but jumped through the window. The shattering of glass preceding the pain in my arm as I started to fall out the window. I braced myself for impact, death even, when the rustling of leaves and more pain jolted me to a stop. I had managed to land in a tree, a thin, leafy tree, but a tree nonetheless.

"Ow." I hissed, clutching my arm as I crawled from the tree and looked up.

Third floor.

"Holy Hell." I swore and jumped the last couple of feet. I was lucky. If that tiny tree hadn't been there I would have probably hurt more than my arm. A head poked from the top window.

Charlie the professor.

I wiggled the fingers of my good arm at him, hissed a little and jogged off, clutching my arm. I think he called something after me, but I ignored it and ducked out of sight.

Now, even though I had found Sharron and I knew she had framed me, though I didn't know why she framed me, and I didn't know why she had even committed the crime in the first place.

I needed evidence, and I needed it fast . . . because, I needed treatment.


End file.
